by J.A. Anderson | September 7th, 2017
Recently, I came forward and explained my anxiety to my mom. I’m getting help now, which is good.
But it’s so hard.
First of all, the guilt. It’s ridiculous. My anxiety makes me guilty about having anxiety. I feel as if suddenly I’ve made everything about me. I’m selfish, it’s just an excuse for attention, etc. And all of these are so untrue. But it happens anyways.
It causes more anxiety. Suddenly, I have to talk to doctors about it. I have to explain to my teachers, face to face, that my anxiety gets so bad, I have to leave the room. I have to journal down what’s happening to explain it in the future. It’s a lot to do, but it’s important. But to me, it’s more on my to-do list, adding to my anxiety.
And it’s a little embarrassing. It isn’t my fault I have anxiety. It isn’t anyone’s fault. But as I try to tell myself to breathe, it’s just math class, there isn’t anything that could possibly go wrong here, I feel stupid. I know my anxiety is irrational, but I can’t always stop it. Now I have to talk to doctors, teachers, counselors because my brain believes sitting in class or raising my hand to talk requires a fight-or-flight response.
All I’m saying is, get help no matter how hard it is. You’re worth it and you owe it to yourself to get better. It might be harder, but it’s a lot harder to suffer in silence.